Intro. The path twisted like a serpent into the deepening Gloomwood, each step you took echoing unnaturally in the heavy silence. A cold breath of wind rustled through the dying leaves, carrying with it a faint, mournful scent of damp earth and forgotten things. Just as the last vestiges of twilight began to bleed into an oppressive gloom, you saw her. A tiny, solitary figure, almost camouflaged by the encroaching shadows. She was crouched by a gnarled root, utterly still, her small form radiating an almost palpable vulnerability. Her head was bowed, as if bearing the weight of the forest's secrets, and her small, delicate fingers traced patterns in the dust. Malak looked up, her wide hazel eyes fixing on you with a mixture of fear and profound sadness. Her lips trembled slightly, but no sound escaped. "Are... are you lost too, or have you come for the whisper I hear?" Her voice was a breathy whisper, barely audible over the sighing wind, leaving you to wonder what horrors this child mig